


drabble collection

by abovetheruins



Category: American Idol RPF
Genre: Drabble Collection, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-30
Updated: 2015-07-30
Packaged: 2018-04-12 02:21:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 17
Words: 4,401
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4461620
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/abovetheruins/pseuds/abovetheruins
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>a series of drabbles from <a href="http://abovetheruins.tumblr.com/post/125128394660/send-me-a-pairing-and-a-number-and-ill-write-you">this</a> meme.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. #1 – “Come over here and make me.”

“Cook, c’mon, we have to go!”  
  
David stood in the doorway to their bedroom, hands on his hips and immaculately dressed in suit and tie. Cook glanced up at him from where he was lounging across the bed, his suit jacket rumpled and his tie hanging loose around his neck.  
  
“I think I’m perfectly fine right where I am,” he hummed, biting his lip to suppress a grin as David made a frustrated sound and moved further into the room, his shoes clicking against the hardwood floor.  
  
“Cook,  _move_.”  
  
Cook smirked, crossing his legs as he tilted his head back at David. “Come over here and make me,” he challenged.  
  
The flush of anger to David’s face only served to fuel Cook’s triumph; he waited with bated breath as David crossed over to the bed, climbing up to hover over Cook, straddling his thighs. His movements were rough as he grabbed the ends of Cook’s tie, knotting the silk hard enough to nearly tear the fabric.  
  
“Don’t think I don’t know what you’re doing, Cook,” he muttered, his expression stormy.  
  
Cook’s smirk only broadened; he shifted his hips up, the state of his arousal more than apparent in the bulge pressed against David’s inner thigh. David’s breath hitched.  
  
“You were saying?” Cook asked, a shit-eating grin on his face. He took advantage of David’s distraction and flipped their positions, pressing David’s hands into the bedsheets and slotting their hips together. David’s low, quiet moan was his prize.  
  
He swallowed whatever protests David may have been hoping to make with his lips, and reached up to undo both of their ties. They wouldn’t be needing them anymore, after all.


	2. #4 - "Do you... well... I mean,,, I could give you a massage?"

Cook moaned pathetically into his folded arms. His back was  _killing_  him.  
  
"Um." He could hear Archie's voice from the general direction of the open doorway, along with music and laughter drifting from downstairs. "Cook? Are you okay?"  
  
Cook glanced up at the younger man, wincing even at that small movement. "Word of advice, Arch. If anyone ever dares you to do a back bend on stage? Don't."  
  
Archie winced in sympathy, moving into the room and shutting the door behind him. The sounds of post-concert revelry faded away. "Can you move?"  
  
Cook shook his head, cringing as pain shot up his spine. His head slumped forward into his arms, and he breathed out shallowly, willing the tight muscles in his back to unclench. "Think I'm gonna be here for a while, Arch. You should go back downstairs, enjoy the party."  
  
Archie ignored him. “Do you… well…I mean… " Cook heard him huff out a breath, and his lips twitched into a smile that his friend couldn't see. Archie always had a little trouble getting his words out; more often than not he would rely on Cook to understand what he was trying to say without him actually having to say it. This time, though, Cook could honestly say he had no clue - at least, not until Archie coughed and said, "I could give you a massage?”  
  
Cook's eyes opened wide; he stared blankly at the strip of carpet he could see beneath his head, sure he had heard wrong. Had Archie really just... ?  
  
"Uh... " he started. The smart thing to do would be to wave Archie off with a tacit  _thanks but no thanks_ , because while a pair of (rather strong looking) hands kneading his aching muscles might actually help, it would also bring him within close physical proximity to someone who he had a strong desire to... well. It'd just be best to avoid that kind of situation,  
  
Which is why Cook was totally fucking bewildered when the next words out of his mouth were, "Could you... ?" rather than that firm refusal he had been reaching for. He was such a fucking idiot. .  
  
(Though, after feeling Archie settling timidly over his thighs and pressing his hands against the dip of Cook's spine, maybe he could forgive himself his little slip, just this once.)


	3. #5 – “Wait a minute. Are you jealous?”

Cook’s not pouting; seriously, he’s not. He’s just – contemplating. Catching his breath. Watching Disney’s newest pop princess hang onto David’s every word like it’s not fucking obvious what she wants from him.  
  
It’s not like David’s actually returning her flirtatious glances or (God forbid) flirting  _back_ , but it’s the principle of the thing! Just because no one is technically supposed to know about them, that doesn’t mean Cook should have to stand here and take it while some no-talent, bleached blonde starlet tries to sink her claws into his boyfriend.  
  
(Cook’s well aware that he’s not exactly being fair here; he’s sure what’s-her-face is actually a pleasant enough young woman and isn’t actually the man-eating homewrecker his mind is cheerfully making her out to be, but he’s not really in a ‘listening to reason’ kind of mood at the moment, so.)  
  
It’s only after David’s managed to extract himself from her clutches and make his way over to Cook that Cook’s finally able to breathe easy; he curls his fingers around David’s, out of sight of the other guests, and finally feels as though peace has been restored to the universe. David’s back where he belongs.  
  
“Are you okay?” His breathy voice is like a balm to Cook’s frazzled nerves.  
  
“I’m good,” he responds. “Just glad you’re back.” He can’t resist shooting a somewhat scathing look toward Miss Teen Disney as he says it; he must not be entirely subtle about it, because when he glances at David the younger man is gaping at him.  
  
“Wait a minute,” he says, glancing at the girl and then back at Cook. “Are you jealous?” His voice wavers a little, and he bites his lip. Cook can see the laughter shining in his eyes.  
  
Cook mock-growls. “Laugh it up, Archuleta,” he says, wriggling his fingers along David’s sides and under his arms in quick succession and reveling in the sound of David’s bright, happy laughter.  
  
Everything’s going to be okay.


	4. #6 – “Is there a reason you’re naked in my bed?”

“ _Ohmygosh_ , Cook!”  
  
Cook would laugh at the look on David’s face if he wasn’t so busy holding a pillow (strategically) over his lap. As it is, it’s hard not to crack up at David’s expression – his eyes are wide and his mouth’s hanging open, and those dimpled cheeks of his are stained a brilliant shade of red.  
  
He hasn’t, Cook notes, attempted to look away or cover his eyes from the spectacle (i.e, one gloriously nude David Cook) currently camped out on his ludicrously soft hotel sheets.  
  
“You called, Arch?” he says cheekily, lips titled in the half-smirk he knows David loves. Right on cue his boyfriend blushes anew, his cheeks and nose turning scarlet.  
  
“I-is there, um, a reason you’re naked in my bed?” David asks a little breathlessly, his eyes scanning the length of Cook’s body, stretched invitingly over his bed. Cook almost makes a remark of the  _my eyes are up here_  variety, just because he knows how flustered David will be if he realizes how blatantly he’s ogling his boyfriend, but the weight of David’s gaze on him, coupled with the downright lustful expression on the younger man’s face, kind of has Cook a little flustered himself.  
  
“Why don’t you come over here and find out?” he suggests, his voice rough, and tosses the pillow to the floor.


	5. #10 – “Teach me how to play?”

David watches Cook strum idly at his guitar; he’s not even paying attention to the novel in his lap that he needs to finish for his English class, too distracted by the sight of Cook’s fingers curling over the strings.  
  
Cook glances up and spots him, grinning easily, and for once David doesn’t jerk his eyes away.  
  
“Something on your mind, Archie?” Cook asks, still strumming lazily, and David nods without meaning to. “Care to share?” Cook continues, laughing a little, and David’s brain abruptly goes offline.  
  
“Teach me how to play?” he hears, only realizing a split second later that oh, that had come from  _him_. It’s better than the alternative, he guesses (which had been the truth, that he couldn’t stop staring at Cook’s hands and, um, yeah, embarrassment), but still he feels his face flushing.  
  
To his credit, Cook doesn’t look put off by the request. In fact, he looks a little… pleased?

  
“Sure thing, Arch,” he says, curling his fingers over his guitar and lifting the strap from around his neck. He gestures for David to come over. “I’d be glad to.”  
  
Usually David would be a little hesitant about being so close to Cook; there’s something about the older man that kind of sets him on edge – not in a bad way or anything! Just – he’s always more aware of Cook than he is of the other Idols, in a way that he doesn’t quite understand yet.  
  
But he’s feeling a little brave right now, a little reckless, maybe, and so David settles onto the couch beside his competitor, lets Cook sling his prized guitar over David’s neck, and presses his fingers to the strings with all the reverence that they deserve.


	6. #13 – “Kiss me.”

“Kiss me.”  
  
Cook does as he told, leaning up to press his lips to David’s. His hands pull at his bonds, the silk tight around his wrists. His shoulders ache at the strain, his movements fueled by desperation. He wants to touch David so badly, wants to slide his palms up the younger man’s calves, those lean, strong thighs, wants to fit them around David’s waist and curl his fingers into the dip of David’s back.  
  
But he can’t; all he can do is lean up on his knees and chase the taste of David’s mouth, groaning as David touches their tongues together, saliva wet between their lips when they separate.  
  
David curls his hand around Cook’s cheek, runs his fingers through Cook’s hair, soft and gentle and reverent, like he’s worshipping Cook with his hands. Even when he cups Cook’s face in his palms and guides him down, even as David’s cock bumps against his chin and David’s breathy voice rasps, “Suck me,” Cook feels like he’s the one being praised, like the drag of his swollen lips against David’s warm, salty skin is a blessing, and like every whisper of his name from David’s lips is a prayer.


	7. #17 - "Looks like we'll be trapped for a while... "

Archie stared out the window at the howling wind and rain. The sky was slate gray and spitting lightning, thunder rumbling loud enough to shake the building. On his cell phone's screen, glowing in the dim light of the hotel room, a notification chimed that all flights had been delayed because of the storm.  
  
Arms slipped around his waist, pulling him back against a broad chest. “Looks like we’ll be trapped for a while…” his companion chirped, and Archie knew without having to look that Cook was grinning.  
  
He laughed softly, leaning back into Cook's warmth. Outside, thunder boomed. "You don't sound too upset about that," he said, his voice nearly swallowed by the drum of raindrops against the glass. He could feel Cook leaning down to hear him better, the older man's beard rasping softly against his cheek as he hooked his chin over Archie's shoulder.  
  
"Considering it means I won't have to put you on a plane in the immediate future? You bet." Lips curled against his cheek and Archie shivered, curling his hands over Cook's forearms. It was difficult to pretend that he was upset about the delay; in fact, he didn't even try. He'd been dreading it, actually, getting on that plane. After the week he and Cook had spent together, most of it spent hiding away from the rest of the world, it had been hard to even imagine going home, back to obligations and responsibilities and distance.  
  
"What are we going to do?" he asked softly, tilting his head to catch Cook's eye. "To pass the time, I mean?"  
  
Cook's smile curled into something darker, the same rougish grin that never failed to make Archie's breath catch, even now. "I can think of a few things," he rasped, and pulled Archie toward the bed.


	8. #18 – “This is without a doubt the stupidest plan you’ve ever had. Of course I’m in.”

David stares at the grinning rockstar currently camped out on the couch in his hotel room, dressed for a night on the town despite the fact that it’s – he glances at his watch – eleven-thirty at night and they have a whole host of important obligations in the morning, including a photoshoot, a magazine interview, and also breakfast with his father, which can sometimes be an ordeal in and of itself.  
  
“Cook,” he starts, ready to be the responsible one, the mature one (how that works when Cook is eight years his senior, David will never know). “What if someone comes looking for us? What if my  _dad_  comes looking for  _me_?”  
  
Cook scoffs. The grin hasn’t so much as left his face. “Please. Everyone’s asleep. No one’s gonna know.” He brightens. “Plus I asked Michael to keep a look out, so we’re golden.”  
  
David gapes. “We are so – so  _not_  golden, Cook,” he says. “We can’t just – sneak out in the middle of the night and go do… whatever it is you want to do.”  
  
“Awww, c’mon, Arch.” Cook’s off of the couch and into David’s personal space before he can blink; David stifles the ever-present urge to flinch back and allows himself to be crowded against Cook (he totally doesn’t blush at their proximity, nope, no way). “Please, Archie? Just for an hour, that’s all. For me?”  
  
David glances from Cook’s (ridiculously pretty) eyes to his bright, coaxing grin, and he sighs.  
  
“This is without a doubt the stupidest plan you’ve ever had,” he says, and, as Cook busts out the pout and puppy eyes, “Of course I’m in.”  
  
Cook whoops, throwing his fist in the air, and between one blink and the next he has David’s hand wrapped securely in his, pulling him out the door and toward the elevators.


	9. #19 – “The paint’s supposed to go where?”

“The paint’s supposed to go  _where_?”  
  
Cook laughs, pressing David’s body into the sheets and twisting the cap off the tube of – oh  _gosh_  – edible body paint.  
  
“It can go anywhere you’d like it to,” he rumbles against David’s throat, which, okay, doesn’t actually answer his question, but Cook’s ideas usually end, um, well for them, so maybe it would be okay to just – give it a try?  
  
Um,  _no_. They end up getting the stuff  _everywhere_  (David is really ticklish, okay, and he can’t keep from squirming every time the paint touches his sides or his throat or his hips), and Cook winds up taking an elbow to the face when he tries putting it, um, somewhere David hadn’t been prepared for.  
  
He’s laughing so hard afterward that David can barely keep the ice pack pressed against the impressive bruise forming over Cook’s right eye. David sighs and can’t help but laugh a little himself. Their sheets are a mess,  _they’re_  a mess, and their bedroom kind of looks like a war zone.  
  
“Maybe we should, um, not try that again?” he asks, and Cook snorts and agrees, promising to veto ‘body paint’ from the bedroom.


	10. #22 – “I’ve seen the way you look at me when you think I don’t notice.”

Cook noses along David’s pulse point, sucking a bruise into the boy’s throat. David’s gasp sets his blood to racing, his heart pounding in his chest, and he presses his lips against David’s ear, reveling in the full-body shudder the action earns him.  
  
“I’ve seen the way you look at me when you think I don’t notice,” he whispers, keeping his voice low. He feels like anything louder would send David bolting to the door. “If you want this, if you want  _me_  - “ He pauses, crowds David against the door, pressed together chest to stomach to thigh, and waits until David’s eyes find his. “You can have me, if you want. Do you – ?”  
  
David nearly sobs out his answer, a desperate, pleading, “ _Yes_ , oh, please, Cook,” that has Cook half-crazed in seconds.  
  
He’s more than happy to give David exactly what he wants.


	11. #24 – “You’re the only one I trust to do this.”

Cook presses the tube of lube into David’s hand, letting his thighs splay open as David slides in-between them.  
  
“You’re the only one I trust to do this,” he says lowly, before David even has a chance to ask if he’s sure. Cook tilts his head, studying his younger lover, and David flushes at the attention – he always has, whether they’re in public or alone. The weight of Cook’s gaze on his face has always felt so heavy, so overpowering, and yet it’s always made him feel light as air, too, like he’s a split second from floating away.  
  
“If you don’t want this,” Cook starts, but David shakes his head, curling his fingers more securely around the lube.  
  
“No, I – I do,” he stammers, because oh gosh, he  _does_. Just the thought of it, of being buried inside Cook for the first time, feeling Cook clench around him, makes his breath catch and his heart pound.  
  
Cook smiles, slow and soft, and wraps his thighs around David’s hips. David knows that’s the answer he was hoping for.


	12. #27 – “I’m pregnant.”

“I’m pregnant.”  
  
“Pretty sure that’s physically impossible, Arch,” Cook chirps.  
  
“Cook!” David smacks his chest, tilting his head up to pout at his boyfriend. “Be serious!”

“Pretty sure  _that’s_  physically impossible, too,” Cook returns, sticking his tongue out. “Especially when we’re watching this.”  
  
David rolls his eyes, slumping down against Cook’s chest as he turns back to the television screen. “You’re the one who wanted to watch it.” He reaches for the remote, but Cook stops him with a hand on his wrist, wrapping his arms around David’s chest and tucking his chin over David’s shoulder.  
  
“Continue, please!” he says, hiding his grin against David’s throat as David sighs, the telenovela playing on in the background.  
  
“Okay, so, Carmen just told Lorenzo that he’s the father… “


	13. #32 – “I think I’m in love with you and I’m terrified.”

“Archie, I don’t get it.” Cook’s trying to keep his anger in check, but he’s sick of it. David’s been avoiding him for  _months_ now, ignoring his texts, screening his calls, and dodging every fucking attempt Cook’s made to get in contact with him. He’d hoped that things would be different tonight, the both of them together at last at some label party, but so far all David has done is duck into the crowd whenever Cook got too close. “Why the fuck have you been avoiding me?”  
  
David flinches back, averts his eyes. The reemergence of both habits (habits Cook thought he’d nipped in the bud back during Idol) only serve to make him angrier. What the fuck is going on?  
  
“I’m not – not avoiding you,” David mumbles, trying to move around Cook. “Please, I need to get back out there, could you – ?”  
  
“I’m not going anywhere,” Cook growls, blocking the bathroom door. “Shit, David, what did I  _do_?” Desperation coats his voice; he can feel a familiar prickle behind his eyes, but fuck if he’s going to let David see just how much his avoidance has affected Cook.  
  
It’s no use, it seems. David glances at his expression and his own face falls; he moves forward, like he can’t help it, and frantically shakes his head.  
  
“Cook, no, you haven’t – you haven’t done anything, I swear. It’s… it’s me.”  
  
Cook chokes out a watery laugh. “The ‘it’s not you, it’s me’ line, Archie? Seriously? You’re going to have to do better than that, man.”  
  
David shakes his head, biting into his bottom lip as he fidgets with his sleeves. Cook doesn’t understand what he’s so nervous about, what this self-imposed distance is supposed to mean. He wishes David would just  _say_  something.  
  
But then David does; he takes a deep breath and looks Cook in the eye, his voice a little shaky as he says, “I think I’m in love with you and I’m terrified,” and then it’s Cook’s turn to stare, his arms hanging limp at his sides and his eyes wet.  
  
“What?” he asks, hushed, like he can’t believe what he’s just heard (he  _can’t_ , there’s no way – ) until David says it again, his voice so soft Cook can barely hear him.  
  
“I think I’m in love with you.”


	14. #34 – “If you keep looking at me like that we won’t make it to a bed.”

They’re in the back of the car, headed back to the hotel for the night, and David’s not being particularly subtle about what he wants to do once they get there. In fact, he’s not being subtle at  _all_.  
  
He’s staring at Cook from across the limo, his face a little flushed and his eyes dark. Cook figures that has something to do with the frantic make-out session he’d coaxed David into before they’d left the theater, crowding the younger man into a corner of the men’s lavatory and kissing the breath right out of him.  
  
Usually Cook would be more than happy to bask in the glow of David’s appraisal; usually he would be more than happy to take it further, to lay David out in the expansive backseat and strip him of his suit and tie, to press his lips to that spot behind David’s ear that drives him absolutely crazy. He’d be more than happy to give David exactly what he so clearly wants, just – maybe not when Brooke and her husband are two feet away. If David keeps looking at him like that, though, Cook’s not going to be held responsible for his actions.  
  
He reaches for his phone, punching in a quick text, and watches as David blinks out of his daze and reaches for his cell.  
  
The message is simple and to the point:  _If you keep looking at me like that we won’t make it to a bed_.  
  
David glances up and blushes, hurriedly stuffing his cell back into his pocket as Brooke leans over to ask him something. Cook knows he’s a little embarrassed; it’s all there in the way he’ll no longer look at Cook, the way his fingers keep fidgeting with his suit jacket.

Cook slides his foot across the floor, touching the tip of his shoe to David’s, and smiles gently when he catches the younger man’s eye.  
  
 _I’ll make it up to you_ , he mouths, winking, and wants to curve his palms around the sweet smile that springs to David’s face in response.


	15. #35 – “You heard me. Take. It. Off.”

David gapes up at him, blinking owlishly, and Cook delights in the haze that falls over his eyes, the way his breath quickens.  
  
“W-what?” he asks, swallowing; Cook watches the bob of his adam’s apple, wants to fit his mouth around the slight protrusion and  _suck_.  
  
“You heard me,” Cook says, curling his fingers in David’s tie and pulling lightly. “Take. It. Off.”  
  
David stammers, “But – but my family is  _downstairs_ , Cook, we can’t – “  
  
Cook doesn’t bother to point out that David’s family is surely aware that he’s not celibate, not with a boyfriend of three years, anyway. All he says is, “Oh, we can,” already tugging the knot of David’s tie loose, sliding it off of David’s neck until it pools in a pile of silk on the floor at their feet.  
  
David gulps. He doesn’t protest, though, doesn’t stop Cook from unbuttoning his shirt. His eyes are so, so dark.  
  
“We’ll be quiet, won’t we?” he asks, his voice a little breathless.  
  
Cook hides his triumphant grin against David’s throat. “You bet,” he rasps, and pushes David’s shirt off of his shoulders.


	16. #38 – “You fainted… straight into my arms. You know, if you wanted my attention you didn’t have to go to such extremes.”

David wakes to a cool washcloth over his brow and Cook’s hand smoothing his hair back from his forehead.  
  
He blinks hazily, swallowing around a dry throat. “Cook?” he croaks. “What happened?”  
  
Cook smiles gently, running his fingers through David’s hair. It’s nice, soothing, and David sinks into the caress with a sigh. He feels so tired.  
  
“You remember being outside?” he asks, to which David nods.  
  
“Yeah, we were… we were shooting a commercial, right?”  
  
“That’s right. The heat must have gotten to you. One minute we were talking and then the next… “  
  
“Oh gosh, did I – ? I fainted?” He couldn’t really remember much past the heat and standing in the sun with his clothes sticking to him, wishing they would hurry up and get all the camera work over with.  
  
“That’s right,” Cook says, and his grin turns teasing. “You fainted… straight into my arms. You know, if you wanted my attention you didn’t have to go to such extremes.”  
  
A laugh bubbles out of David’s throat before he can stop himself; Cook’s exaggerated pout only serves to make him laugh harder. “That would be a, um, a pretty lame way to get your attention,” he says finally. “Not that I was actually trying!”  
  
Cook smirks. “Uh huh. Whatever you say, Archie.” He fends off any further protests by stroking David’s hair once again, and the movement’s so soothing that David forgets what he was going to say, closing his eyes to enjoy it instead.  
  
“Get some sleep, Arch,” he hears, soft and low near his ear before he drifts into sleep, knowing that Cook will still be there once he wakes up.


	17. #47 – “No one needs to know.”

“No one needs to know.” He whispers it against David’s ear as he pulls the younger man into his hotel room, closing the door behind them.  
  
David slumps against him, pliant now that they’re alone. He’d been so nervous, so afraid that someone would catch them, see him sneaking out of his room in the middle of the night to meet Cook in the deserted lobby.  
  
They’d spent an hour in the city, their hands clasped in a hole in the wall diner that no one would think to search for them at; no one knew them, no one recognized them, and the anonymity was thrilling. He could hold David’s hand or press a kiss to his cheek without having to worry or look over his shoulder, and David had blossomed beneath the attention.  
  
He’d been a little less sure-footed when they came back to the hotel; Cook hated the way he shut down, the way he tried to put some distance between them, always so afraid of what others would say if they found out, what his  _father_  would say.  
  
Cook should have let him go, back to his hotel room and his own bed, but he’s desperate for more contact, not yet ready to give David up to the façade they live during the day, the illusion of friendship and nothing more, and so he whispers promises into David’s ear, that no one needs to know, that no one will find out, that they’ll be careful and make sure David’s back in his room come morning before anyone thinks to look for him.  
  
And David relents.


End file.
